Fear of Falling
by thisisawittypenname
Summary: Very short but hopefully sweet Snickers Oneshot. Set early first season.


Title: Fear of Falling

Disclaimer: Again, the characters are like proverbial actions figures I borrow from a friend. Get it? They're not mine.

A/N: Ah yes, how many times have I been berated for saying "Frisco"? Probably too many, but the word just sounds so cool… Also, in case you don't gather this from the first paragraph, this is set during the first season, but there are not direct spoilers.

She'd come to Vegas a few months ago, two, maybe three at most. He remembered he couldn't take his eyes off of her when Grissom introduced them, after, of course, Nick had finished heaving dummies off the tope of the roof. She'd been pretty outgoing at first, and the Denali ride back to the lab provided them with a laugh or two, Nick turning around from his position in shotgun to ask her "how she liked it back in 'Frisco" to which she replied with a wink and teased that "only people trying to sound cool call it 'Frisco". He had a feeling she'd fit in just fine.

And she did; after a few bumps in the road with Warrick (after all, she _did_ come out here for the sole purpose of investigating him), they seemed to become friendly enough. She got along alright with Catherine, although things between them were a bit strained. Nick had to admit, he though he seemed like her favorite.

Which is why it was so weird that whenever he got close to her, physically, that is, Sara sort of… tensed up. It was a little disappointing to him. He'd spent the next few days after this discovery watching to see if she did that with anyone else.

She didn't.

But of course, no one came as close a he did. And because he wanted to get even closer, he decided to ask her about it.

He found her on the couch in the break room looking thoroughly…pissed. "Bad case?" he asked, leaning comfortably on the doorframe.

"Something like that." She smiled wearily at him, before pushing herself off the couch to get coffee.

Nick followed her, standing behind her at the counter as she poured a cup. "Sara."

She whirled around, brown eyes becoming wide as she noticed their proximity, wider still when Nick gently removed the mug from her hands and placed it one the counter, before placing one hand on either side of her. She was trapped between him and the counter.

"Sara" Nick said softly, imploringly, "Why don't you like me?"

"I do like you, Nick" she responded, sounding confused.

"Then why do you tense up whenever I try to get close to you?" As if to make his point, Nick closed most of the (little) distance between them. They were very close now, and he felt her body bristly when his arm brushed against her side. Sara crossed her arms protectively.

"It's not that I don't like you" she told him.

"Then why?" Nick insisted.

She wouldn't look him in the eye; instead she directed her words at the floor. Nick could barely hear them: "Because I've never had the greatest track record. Because I don't like letting people in. Because when you do… this, I feel like I'm falling."

Nick leaned forward, resting his forehead against her own. "Why are you so afraid of falling?"

Now she looked at him, and Nick could see her eyes were full of fear. "I'm scared I won' be able to pick myself up again."

Her words hung in the room like a thick, cold fog, and neither of them spoke.

"Sara," Nick breathed against her skin, "I'll catch you."

He felt her relax into him as she seemed to contemplate something. She averted her gaze for a moment to her now lukewarm coffee sitting on the counter, before he saw a single tear slide down her cheek. "Ok" she finally whispered, nodding as she turned her head to face him.

Nick needed no further permission. He dipped hi head and pressed his lips softly to hers. His lips curved into a smile against hers as he felt her move closer to him, her hands resting on the front of his shirt. His hands traced little patterns across the small of her back.

As they broke the kiss, Nick was pleased to see Sara unconsciously lick her lips, which were already missing the head Nick had provided. "So" he whispered, pressing his words into the skin at the base of her neck, "All in all, is Vegas turning out to be better than 'Frisco?"

"It is now."

A/N: Short and (kind of) sweet, right? Let me know what you think.


End file.
